Star Fox V: The Phantom Fox
by Inverseman
Summary: After the events of "Star Fox Command", Fox McCloud must learn to re-adjust to post-war life, but there are some things he just cannot let go. Skies are darkening over the Lylat System. What will become of our hero. A reimagining of "Star Fox" and while it's not a crossover; it takes many cues from "Metal Gear Solid" and other war-themed games with a dose of parody to boot.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

There's a planet on the far reaches of the Lylat System, one far from the Federation and her protection, where the only aspirations are making it to see another day. It's the common bond that unites the denizens of this lawless land, good enough for them, but not for Falco Lombardi, a pilot with clipped wings and nowhere to go.

Falco stumbled into the bar for his weekly ritual of post-loss hard liquor. There was a limp in his step and a fresh black eye. The bartender, ROB 64, glared at him, his stoic robotic demeanor now replaced with judgment.

"Lost again, didn't you? Then you got all sore about it. I really don't know why I keep letting you in here. You haven't won a race in years, and your tab just keeps getting bigger"

"Fuck you, tin can. I bring good business" was the best a woozy Falco could muster.

"Yeah, from the people betting against you. Here's your usual, birdbrain". ROB slid over a glass and threw a towel towards the bloodied patron.

"You want me to earn my keep? I'll sing. Tell you how all this shit happened."

Falco downed his drink, wiped some of the blood and dirt off his face, and stood up determined to speak. Meanwhile the other bar patrons, or what few there were, turned curious eavesdropping ears towards him.

 _Star Fox V: The Phantom Fox_


	2. Chapter 1: Disfigured Honor

**Chapter 1 – Disfigured Honor**

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Iron, salt, and dust. If war had a flavor it'd be those three ingredients served in blood. Fox McCloud knew this well, the war was over but these insurgents wouldn't let him wash the taste out of his mouth. Faded "HAIL ANDROSS" posters lined the walls, the daily reminders of a fanatical planet of apes sworn to die for their god emperor, led to a draft behind one of them and a secret duct.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The insurgents lacked subtlety. You could hear the bomb all the way out here. A few turns left here and down this hatch and there it was, out in the open, strapped to the Venomese chairman, a meek marmoset who probably thought he could do so much good helping the Federation's reconstruction effort. He was beaten within an inch of his life. No cruelty of torture. No finesse in hostage taking. Just pure frenzied anger loosed on this harmless naïve bureaucrat.

"Oh thank God, you're here! You have to get me out of here! They're-"

"Shh. It's okay chairman, team StarFox is here to get you home., whispered Fox as he hoisted the chairman onto his back.

"I can't do this anymore! The things I've seen. It's hopeless!"

The chairman was raving and thrashing

"Shut up for second, you'll attract-", but before Fox could finish his shoddy attempt at consoling, a howl came from down the corridor.

"Who was that? Wait. I know that smell… McClooooud! Brothers, the scoundrel is here! Fight, my brothers! For our honor! For Emperor Andross!"

"Shit. Hey Krystal, we've been compromised. We're going loud. All units prepare to engage!"

Rabid hooting and the thundering of soldiers on all-fours came down. Leading the charge was the commander himself, a gaunt orangutang with several cybernetic limbs, and burn wounds littering what little of his body that remained flesh.

"Your bombing runs scarred my face and split my skull. His highness was able to restore me, but every day this face reminds me of the brutality you Federation scum wrought on us. We no longer need the hostage, we have what we want now."

A volley of blaster shots were aimed at the chairman, predictably so, and on cue, Fox darted in front to deploy his Reflector. The shots ricocheted wildly off the shield, many of them right back at the soldiers. The commander shrugged off his men's own laser fire to personally confront the personal embodiment of his oppressors. His metal fist then collided with the side of Fox's ribcage. Fox flew to the wall and rolled to the side to dodge an oncoming tackle, striking back with a flurry of kicks. They barely phased the commander, who dislodged himself from the steel wall to charge again.

The remaining soldiers descended on the chairman, cowering in a fetal position with only a cheap table barricading him from the horde of apes..

"Get the hell out of here and run!" Yelled Fox, wishing he could be in two places at once.

"Fox, we're almost there! Get ready for pickup!" Radioed Krystal

Almost wasn't good enough. He needed to evacuate the hapless chairman now or the mission would be a complete failure. Until crashing straight through the roof was an Arwing, barely missing the chairman and Fox. Of course, only one pilot was so borderlined stupid enough to do that.

"Falco! The bomb's strapped to the chairman. Slippy has the defuse kit"

"What? Not even a 'honey, how was work today?'" Jested Falco.

"Just move already. I'll clean up and meet you back aboard the Great Fox."

"You got a really funny friend there. McCloud, but..."

The Commander revealed, installed in his own chest, a second bomb detonator.

"I'd never be able to live with myself if I didn't get to see to your death personally, McCloud. Emperor Andross, if Valhalla exists, may I fight under someone even one-tenth as great as you" With those last words, the Commander breathed his last.

Beep Beep Beep

"Base self destruct in five minutes" A voice declared. Fox scrambled through the hole in the ceiling and across the rooftop. There was no time to locate the bomb. With reflexes innate to his species, Fox jumped from beam to beam, nimbly flipping onto the base's rooftop.

"Three minutes until self-destruct" announced the machine.

Flashes of blue ricocheted across the complex, leaving faint after-images of Fox as he vaulted between buildings.

"Thirty seconds until self-destruct" The final warning.

"Come on, come on, come on! Move, Fox, move"

With nearly one minute left, the Great Fox flew overhead.

"Hey! About time!" Smirked Fox.

"Get aboard, everyone's waiting" replied Krystal with an outstretched paw.


	3. Chapter 2: Marcus

**Chapter 2 - Marcus**

Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeep.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't think this product was tagged correctly. Hi this is Stacy from register five. Can I get a price check? Oh! Sir. Everything okay? Hellooo?" A slightly frazzled squirrel clerk waved her paw in front of Fox, darting his gaze left and right.

"Yeah…. I'm fine. I'd like to pay by credit" And with the swipe of a card, Fox left for the parking lot.

Fox disliked cars. They were tiny little beetles that imprisoned their riders in tiny unarmed shells. All they could do was scurry around within the prescribed speed limit, even though they were capable of higher speeds. They were nothing like airships: fast, free, powerful, and sometimes dangerous. When you were in a ship, if you were smart, you had the galaxy in your hands. You didn't have to answer to anyone, not to country or flag.

Fox's home was a modest two-story lawn-and-fence suburban house just outside the capital of Corneria. You wouldn't have figured the Hero of Lylat lived in a planned neighborhood of identical abodes, but a hero can't stay in the limelight forever.

"Daddy's home!"

Marcus ran over to Fox, a pup only six years old, and the pride and joy of his parents

"Hey champ! How was school today?"

"Super fun!"

Right in the doorway was Krystal, radiant as ever, no different than when Fox met her on Sauria all those years ago.

"I'll go put dinner on"

"Thanks honey" A peck of a kiss given to his wonderful wife. Since the war, Krystal had certainly felt in her own element; it must have been her maternal instincts kicking in. Meanwhile, Fox confessed to himself he was still trying to figure fatherhood out.

It was a comfortable life, a restful one deserved for a hero with an easygoing desk job. A waking up from the nightmares of war, but also a slumber that the next generation will never fall into.

"Marcus, you should tell daddy your special surprise today" encouraged Krystal.

"I got an A+ on my writing project" Marcus beamed with pride

"Oh? What was it about?" Fox cocked his head to ensure his son knew he was curious.

"I had to pick my most favorite hero in the whole world."

"And who did you pick, sweetie?" A leading question from Krystal to the obvious response

"I chose you, daddy!"

"No way!" Fox put on his goofiest look of surprise to illicit a chuckle from Marcus.

"I wrote, 'My daddy is the greatest hero in the whole galaxy. One day I want to go to flying school. I want to be a pilot just like daddy'"

Fox knew the pilot's life wasn't for Marcus. These ramblings were flights of fancy.

Little girls want to be princesses. Little boys want to be knights. Kids quickly outgrow these fantasies to choose more "normal" careers.

"That's great, Marcus. Daddy's proud of you!" Fox gave the young pup a fist bump.

"Then you're going to love this" said Krystal bearing a grin of good news.

"Marcus might be eligible for the Cornerian Defense Academy Early Aptitude Exam"

Krystal produced an official letter bearing the Federation seal

"Early Aptitude Exam?", replied Fox, in a tinge of disbelief. It couldn't be what he was thinking, right?

"If he passes, he'll be in a special enrichment program that will lead right into the flight academy. That is, if he keeps his grades up" Krystal gave a knowing glance towards Marcus.

"I always do my best mommy!", he chirped

Early aptitude? He's only six! When did they start this young? Back then you had to at least be in your teens to test into the academy.

"Hey, kiddo, you sure you wanna do this? This program sounds super hard with lots of studying and homework" said Fox. This is ridiculous. Choosing your future at six?

"I can do it! If I pass, I'll study 100 hours every day!"

Fox felt a something in his head unlatch, an "opening" in his mind, a polite knock followed by a tiny crack in the doorway. It was a telepathic communication channel.

"It's a wonderful opportunity. You should let him test" goaded Krystal

"I don't know. I don't like the sound of it. It's too much for him" though inaudible, Fox shook his head. Telepathy tends to do a poorer job of concealing one's thoughts than you'd think.

"Marcus' grades are extremely high. He's not being challenged at school. Even the PE teacher sees him at the head of the pack. He needs a program like this," Krystal explained

"The capital has plenty of other programs to choose from. It doesn't have to be this one"

"Then at least let him try. If he doesn't like it when he gets older, he can transfer to any other program"

"Honey, you know how the Federation Defense Army is. They're literal bloodhounds. Even if you don't enlist, if you're a pilot they like, once they get your scent, they'll always be sitting at your porch waiting for you to feed them"

There was truth to what Fox said. For a mercenary team, Star Fox had been doing the government's duty time and time again.

"You don't know that, Fox. He's not even in the program yet. So what's the harm in-"

"I really hate it when you do this. Using telepathy to talk to you is exhausting. If you wanna talk. Then let's talk", Fox did know the harm in letting Marcus slip into the military flytrap known as the flight academy. Krystal didn't understand, she wouldn't be able to, even if Fox allowed her to read those thoughts. If there was something she could understand right now, it's that Marcus can't be around to hear this.

"Hey Marcus, you don't have to do the dishes tonight. Go upstairs and play, okay?", a wry Fox trying to feign a smile.

"Really daddy? Mommy, you too?", asked a blissfully ignorant Marcus.

"Yes sweetie. It's because you got that A+ today. Super fast okay?", replied Krystal, with a hidden urgency in her voice, which meant to Marcus as to hurry up to his room, arms out, making "whooshing" noises to mimic an Arwing. And then, dead silence.

"I made up my mind, I'm not letting him test into the academy", an opening volley from Fox, knowing the coast to be clear.

"He can make that choice if he wants to" interjected Krystal

"And choose to lose the next twelve years of his life. He deserves a childhood"

"He deserves to follow his dreams and his own father"

"If he follows me, he's going to war as a dog of the Federation"

"The war's over. We don't need the team anymore. Team Star Fox is over", Krystal's poor attempt to assuage her husband had boiled over.

"Team Star Fox is NOT over" shouted Fox. He slammed his fist on the dinner table. The rattle of china and utensils reverberating in the air.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean it like that. I-", Krystal saw she stepped too far but Fox interrupted her.

"We're apart and off-duty, but we are still a team whether you're on it or not"

Fox donned his typical pilot's jacket and began clearing the table

"Where are you doing?", pleaded Krystal.

"I'm getting the dishes" Fox's cold stare towards his own wife lasted less than a second, but burned for an eternity into the blue vixen's eyes.


	4. Chapter 3: First Place

**Chapter 3 - First Place**

The night was brisk, the final comfort before a harsh winter's cold. The breeze carried nostalgia of a young team of upstart pilots. When did everything get so complicated? When did government and the foolish mandates of politicians worm their way into a small band of mercenaries looking to do some good and have fun doing it?

Fox lit a cigarette and made his way through the raised capital Corneria City, a city in the sky. Underneath, untouched pristine wilderness, but on platforms above, a metropolis of sound and light with common folk enjoying a night on the town. It was the very picture of harmony and prosperity; this is what the team had fought for all these years, but a more obvious testament hung above.

The holoscreens that cascaded across the skyscrapers were lined with images, news, and advertisements. Rather typical if not for one thing.

"Personally I don't prefer the air I prefer the square. Never worry about rust again with the ShineCube rust remover!", boomed a large holo-ad of Fox advertising some cleaning product with a cheesy one-liner. It's surprising that ad was still being broadcast; Fox barely remembered filming it years ago. It was only now he noticed how awkward he sounded reading the lines, but put the "Hero of the Lylat System"'s face on anything and you know it will sell regardless.

"Hey, isn't that Fox McCloud? Oh my God, I think it's him!", called out a voice.

Normally people admire him from afar, but it seems the running ads have attracted Fox more attention than usual; time to make a getaway. Fox slipped into the network of alleyways, brushing past crowds still registering who he was. Left. Right. Left. And another smell of fuel filled his canine nostrils; he was on the right path. Just one more dive out into the street.

The din of fusion engines soaring, the whole locale being bathed in light, and the roar of the crowd told Fox he had arrived at the Grand Prix racetrack. A short hop over the fence and down into the pit to where Falco Lombardi was busy tuning his Arwing-turned-racecar.

"Didn't think I'd see you here. You're usually busy with missus and the pup"

"Set me up, Falco. I'm going in tonight", Fox completely disregarding his friend's observation

"Heeey. Why the long face?"

Nothing from Fox.

"Tell ya what. After the race, let's get a drink. I'll treat you with some of my prize money"

"What prize money?", a slight smile formed across Fox. Falco always knew how to cheer a guy up.

"Eyyy Just you watch." Falco playfully jabbed Fox in the arm and proceeded to line up. Fox threw in a few space dollars and took a seat in the audience.

…...

"Hey, congrats on getting first place! I didn't think you'd lap them out there" complemented Fox.

"Yeah, it was alright. What I really want is to have a match against that blue guy in the red helmet. Hm… What was his name again? It sounds like mine..." Falco shrugged, thoughts lying elsewhere, and called ROB 64 over for a couple beers.

The Greek bar and restaurant Gyromite was teeming with life, a tucked-away local haunt for Cornerians who can trust the mechanical perfection of the manager, a reassigned ROB 64. Small whispers could be heard from the newer patrons, what with being in the presence of two of the Federation's heroes but after the umpteenth visit seeing the men of Star Fox sit down for a drink has become a commonplace occurrence.

"Thanks, bud. So whatchu been up to?", said Falco, changing the subject.

"Same as usual." Fox was lying through his teeth. It was too obvious to Falco.

"So what you're really saying is that your coworkers are assholes, and the only thing that gets you up in the morning is your loving wife and a giant flying metal death machine"

"You got me there." a slight chuckle came from Fox. "The Arwing III is coming along well. We still have a ways to go, but when it's done, you'll be back in the skies where you belong"

"I'll hold ya to it. Damn, it's getting late. I oughta let you get some shuteye. And don't forget to tell Krystal and the kid I said 'hi'"

"Sure thing, partner" Fox pounded his fist against Falco's and headed back.

It's been too long since Fox had a night with the guys, but it seemed Falco was doing well for himself, in spite of always being a drifter. Slippy was a few towns over with Amanda, taking over for his father's company. All this left was Fox. He couldn't let Marcus enter the academy; he knew what would happen to him when he graduated. And yet, despite his firm opposition, Fox probably sold it to him the best. He told him too many stories of the "old days" and the mischief a fox, a frog, a dog, and a wolf made. It wasn't just Marcus who was sold by the "humble origins of the great pilot Fox McCloud", Krystal had bought them too.

"Krystal, you'd never believe what, Bill, Wolf, Slippy, and I were like back then. Did you know Wolf used to be even wimpier than Slippy in freshman year? In the dorm, we had an arm wrestling contest…", the introduction to tales and yarns Fox had spun countless times for her.

Stories like those painted such a picturesque youth, how could you not want that for your son? There had to be a way to convince Krystal to at least give it more thought. There has to be a solution. After all, they both love Marcus more than anyone else in the galaxy. He'll think of something, perhaps even reconsider.

When Fox arrived home, it was already past midnight. Marcus and Krystal were fast asleep in the gentle calm of the night. Table cleared off. Lunches packed. Breakfast for the family of three set to go. In particular, Fox's was already laid out with care, a product of having to report to the office at obscenely early hours before even the most diligent housewife would rise. It was the picture of a normal family, without the lingering dread of the argument earlier in the evening. Maybe things will work out after all.

Before retiring to bed, Fox noticed two coffee mugs in the sink and a box from the well-known Sticky-Fingers Ylissen Pâtisserie. Curious, Fox looked inside.

"Carrot cake? Hm. I never really liked that stuff"


	5. Chapter 4: Mk III

**Chapter 4 - Mk III**

Barely any sleep came to Fox. Nearly as soon as he got home last night, he had to head straight for work. If it meant anything, rush hour was never a problem for someone who had to hit the road by 5:45 AM, and for a soldier rising this early was considered sleeping in. It was into the car and onto the road. The radio read off the morning headlines: new legislation from the Federation Council, territory disputes with the Zenit Union of Galactic Republics, Kitty Perry's newest single, and the weather. All of it boring, trivial, or self-censored, but that was the humdrum morning commute of a civilian.

Since the Lylat Wars, the government sector of Corneria City had been completely rebuilt. The Lylat Council housed the entirety of the system's governing body in a state of the art network of linked skyscrapers for the bureaucratic offices and an expansive maze of underground research facilities. A cage of G-Diffuser equipped spires surrounding the complex could generate blast shields, and, in a time of crisis, could propel the entire complex out of the ground via rocket to dock in an emergency space station. Overall, it was an imposing impregnable fortress separating itself from the rest of the city, a crown jewel haughtily seated above the rabble. .

Fox clocked into his office and was met with a mumbled "mornin'" from his maltese secretary Gladys. She had her nose buried in her phone and the back of her chair turned towards Fox.

"Gladys, what's on schedule today?" asked Fox his voice trailing as he strolled right past her desk

"You have an 11 o'clock meeting with a client"

"Lovely..."

"...and the lab says they'll have the test results from this morning reported by the end of the day"

Fox's ears perked

"Morning? So right now? I'm heading down into the hanger"

"Mr. McCloud you have appropriations to authorize"

"I can figure those out later". Fox waved his paw, too eager to give much thought, and darted for the glass elevator to his ostentatious top floor office. With no regard for safety, Fox opened the door to the empty shaft and slid down the storied walls deep into the underground.

"Dick..." muttered Gladys alone in the office, Fox's inbox untouched.

Lab interns could spot Fox, their awe contained in cursory glances from a safe distance. Meanwhile, more seasoned members of Fox's department paid no mind in staving off the ecstatic tugs of their novice peers.

"Alright, where's the test being conducted?", Fox pulled aside one of the researchers.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Mr. McCloud. Check with Steve or something", the researcher kept heading on his way.

"Come on, Doug, you have to be more on top of this stuff", Fox continued his pursuit, his target now raising his stroll to a power-walk.

"I think the blast email said they're testing laser cannons or something. Check the weapons bay. I gotta go" and Doug boarded a forklift.

The massive bulk of the cannon consumed the test chamber as if ready to burst out of the room itself. Engineers were pinned to the back, the weapon's presence already inspiring fear in its hypothetical enemies. Fox stormed into the room, disrupting the quiet shuffle of the workers.

"Phew made it right in time. Are we ready yet or what?"

"Mr. McCloud, sir. Aren't you supposed to be in management right now? You can leave the testing to us", a cocker spaniel replied

"And wait for the test results later? I can see for myself"

"Fine, ready boys? We were doing this anyway. Deploy the barricade. And…. Fire."

A slab of titanium crashed into the test chamber and no sooner than hit the floor it was vaporized in a flash of crimson light.

"See, Fox? A new record. 1.56 seconds. You can head back upstairs and we'll forward you the results"

"Too slow", the spring in Fox's step had ended in a thud.

"Well, we spent a lot of time and finally both minimized the charge time and significantly lightened the weight" the engineer explained

"But it's still not fast enough. Make it fire in one second flat"

"We've done so much though, something has to give"

"Those 0.56 seconds can mean the difference between a soldier's life and death. Is that the compromise you want to make?"

The engineer was speechless. Fox had pressed his snout up to the engineer's, his eyes livid and arms locked by his sides with fists clenched.

"Thought so. Shave off that half-second by the end of the day. Chirst, I have a meeting to prepare for; I belong in the office" and with those last words, Fox boarded the elevator back.

"He belongs in the trash" another engineer told an intern

"Was he right though? Is it really the difference between life and death? And also… Is Fox normally like this?".asked the clueless intern.

"From my experiences, no… It really isn't. And to answer your other question, yes, he is usually like this"

Fox entered the meeting room, catered lunch in hand, and awkwardly fumbled to adjust his tie in time. "I don't understand why we're meeting with this 'Sylph Company'. Why can't we just dial up Slip and work with Space Dynamics again? We'd be done in half the time"

"That's a breach of conflict of interest, Fox. Mister Slippy Toad, new CEO of Space Dynamics, and his board of trustees have ended their contract with the Federation. They will need to bid for a new contract with us like everyone else, if they choose to in the first place", said another board member checking his Miitomo account one last time before the official start of the meeting.

The representatives up front were strange animals, that was certain. The more important looking one was a typical Space Italian, puffy pitch-black crow plumage, a black "hat" that could take up two chairs, waxed beak, and donning a gold watch that nearly consumed his entire wingspan. The message he was sending was clear: I am more important than you. His friend was even stranger. A very muscular very blue primate creature who, for some reason,was hairless. He was stretching his suit to the seams, a suit even bluer than him and a tie redder than his right-leaning politics. He was smoking a cigar and gave firm handshakes with each of his four arms to everyone in the room.

"I, Giovanni, am honored to know my company is worthy of the Federation's, and in particular, the Hero of Lylat's, consideration. This is my associate who will guide you through our presentation, Donald Champ", with a center-stage wing flourish, he directed everyone's attention to his partner.

"Thanks for the intro, boss. Pleased to meet ya, gentlemen. I wanna take a moment to show you boys, the value Silph Co can provide for protecting Federation assets", he said with a million-dollar grin.

The lights dimmed and the boardroom table expanded to unveil the hologram projector underneath. Stars lined the room and a fleet of Arwings soared around the men, doing somersaults and barrel rolls between them. Another glorified retelling of the noble deeds of Star Fox and so on, so on.

Donald took to the board, chart holograms flowing from each of his four hands.

"Pictured here is the first model Arwing. Ain't she a beaut? See our courageous Star Fox pilots protect the Federation's freedom from Andross' tyranny. Your advanced G Diffuser system lets them pull off amazing feats that ordinary craft would only hold them back from."

A small war broke out on the table, The miniature versions of Fox's fleet gunned down Venomian rebels in explosions of color. But soon after victory, the holograms were replaced with a close up of Fox's Arwing, the hull badly worn with smoke seeping from the engine.

"The pilots can take the extreme conditions, but the planes themselves simply can't keep up. So it's a good thing the first model G-Diffusers are going the way of the dinosaur for your new G3 G-Diffusers. We here at Silph have looked at your designs and we were thoroughly impressed with the current prototype. However, we can evolve it further, so long as y'all can supply the plasma rods, we'll supply the tech"

Champ enlarged a collage of photographs of a post-battle Arwing, wings worn from combat and G-diffuser plasma rods cracked.

A representative from the Federation's elite Husky Squadron responded. "Rest assured, Donald, if we can beat the ZUGR to the punch, you'll be up to your four arms in plasma rods", his face unmoved by the spectacle, steeled from experience.

"Swell. Now let's get brass tacks about the cost…."

Donald's voice began trailing into the distance, a night of drinking catching up to Fox. The hologram stars swirled like a mobile. Dizzying and enchanting. Fox's eyes glued themselves to the miniature Venom, its harsh wasteland red now replaced with verdant green, and its cool hue lulling him to bed.

….

"Mission accomplished, team! Cheers!", declared Fox.

"Cheers!", replied the team.

Merriment spread across the whole Venomian tavern in song and dance. The local primates had been long exploited by the loyalist insurgency, and of all the men for the Federation to send, they sent the Hero of Lylat himself to save them from Andross' remnants; it was something out of a movie.

To think only a scant few years ago, Venom was a barren hellscape where Andross' experiments roamed free, a giant test zone for weapons manufacturing, monster bioengineering, and ethically questionable recruit training all using the locals as fodder. The Federation relief effort had revitalized the planet and terraformed it into a more hospitable land, but there was still a long way to go in reforming the nation, especially politically.

Celebrations couldn't last forever, the next morning brought about more reconstruction work with Fox and his crew lending any hands they could to the villagers and Federation force. Slippy was working with the engineers, Fox was meeting with the village chiefs, and Falco was relaxing in the tavern taking a short break from heavy lifting watching the galactic sports network.

"We're coming from you live in Mute City with the F-Zero Grand Prix Majors. We got some of the fastest racers from every sector in the galaxy here" boomed the bulky tavern television, barely able to keep up with the cars darting across the screen at supersonic speeds.

"That don't look too hard. I betcha I can do that too! It's like flyin', but on the ground!", scoffed Falco, his boasting quickly cut off by the TV.

"And including the returning champ himself, CAPTAIN FAL-", Zap! The feed ended and Falco's trance rudely interrupted by Krystal, flipping the remote in her paw. .

"Hey, Krys, I was watchin' that!"

"You'll have time later if you record it using your Navigator-X, Falco. The village chief needs these boards by the bridge site."

"Yeah, I got it. I'm savin' you for later", Falco whispered affectionately to his NX as he beamed it towards the TV.

Meanwhile, Fox was in the village chief's hut with an elder council of baboons. The chief, the oldest among them with the most vibrant markings, bowed towards Fox. His men, surprised by the act of reverence, hastily followed him in turn.

"Thank you team Star Fox. We are most honored by your deeds of bravery all for our humble village"

"It was nothing, chief. We're just glad we could help, but we're here to visit. If you really wanna thank someone, you should be thanking all these young pups from the Federation who have been here for months. An old timer like me hasn't seen so many dedicated young men and women"

"If you're calling yourself an old timer, then I'm a monkey's uncle!" chortled the elder.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. McCloud, if we may have you for a moment?"

A Cornerian Colonel huskey stood in the hut's entrance, pulling aside Fox.

"Sure, what's up?"

"First off, great job capturing the insurgents yesterday, you've made the Federation proud. Second, our scouts have spotted some suspicious activity a few villages over. We suspect there's one more cell of insurgents hiding out there, and they've gone live after they learned of their rival's defeat yesterday"

"We accept the mission! "

"Oh and keep in mind it's a covert operation with as few men as possible. We can't let this blow up, otherwise who knows what they'll do to the villages around here" whispered the colonel.

"Then I'll fly solo."

"Fox! Take me with you" Krystal suddenly appeared behind Fox, she always had the most impeccable timing.

"Krystal, you know it's dangerous to take you along. You already convinced me to have you here and I know you can protect yourself, but you're forgetting about you-know-who", Fox pointed towards Krystal's stomach, slightly rounder than its typical shapely athletic form.

"Alright. But promise me you'll be okay." Krystal took Fox's paw and placed it on her warm abdomen."

"Of course. It's settled, I'm going alone" Fox turned towards the Colonel. "Ready to take off whenever you are, Colonel"

"Excellent, we depart immediately, McCloud", the Colonel's enthusiastic voice carried in the wind.

…

"McCloud… McCloud... McCloud… " Fox's coworker was tapping a spot on the table right in front of Fox as if he was boring a small well into the ground.

"Huh?! Oh! Yes!" Fox shot up in his chair, the drone of his coworker's voice ran through him like a bolt of lightning.

The hologram presentation was over, with the typical incandescent lights of the meeting room radiating overhead, and everyone staring at Fox. The glints in their eyes seemed brighter than normal, like headlights and here Fox was standing there like a deer. The hum of the lights buzzing in his head breaking the silence with its droning.

"So… Mr. McCloud. What do you think of the current proposal to collaborate with our client?" Fox's coworker asked.

Fox blinked and hastily recollected himself.

"We'll get back to you about that one..."


End file.
